


The Moment

by savvyliterate



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-13
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-18 14:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvyliterate/pseuds/savvyliterate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Scholar. It was a Time Lord-like name, and it was a story that he had heard for years, ever since Romana had told it to him four regenerations earlier. The Scholar who guarded the Fount of Knowledge, who was in possession of The Moment, and who refused to surrender it until the anointed time to the destined wielder who had played eight movements of his symphony. It was one of many stories contained in the halls of the Citadel, and it was the one that Romana had turned to during this final, desperate time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Moment

He was escorted into the lavish waiting room, which reminded him of his library on the TARDIS when he first regenerated. It had been equally lavish; heavy with Victorian influences that suited the long hair and frock coat he’d worn all those years ago. Even though he hadn’t regenerated, it still seemed like a completely different man who’d been chasing after the Master on the streets of San Francisco and kissing Grace Holloway. 

The Doctor absently ran a hand through his newly shorn hair; the stubbly ends odd and strange under his calloused fingers. He observed the room with a calm ease, ready to pick up his cargo and have it over with.

The sheer curtain dripping with beads and small bells was eased aside, and an Ood glided through the opening. “The Scholar will see you now,” he informed the Doctor.

The Scholar. It was a Time Lord-like name, and it was a story that he had heard for years, ever since Romana had told it to him four regenerations earlier. The Scholar who guarded the Fount of Knowledge, who was in possession of The Moment, and who refused to surrender it until the anointed time to the destined wielder who had played eight movements of his symphony. It was one of many stories contained in the halls of the Citadel, and it was the one that Romana had turned to during this final, desperate time.

“It’s a fairy tale, Romana.” The memory of his discussion with Romana in the patchy transmission she’d made to the TARDIS replayed as he walked toward the curtained-off area at the other end of the room. “You’re grasping at straws here.”

“It is the only thing we have left to us. Please, I trust you more than anyone on this planet. For the good of all of us, you have to find The Moment. You have to use it. It’s the only way you’ll be able to stop Rassilon’s Ultimate Sanction.”

He paused before the area and clasped his hands behind his back. Unlike the sheer curtain on the other end of the room, this one was opaque. He could just see the bottom of a wooden platform, the barest hint of chair leg. No one had ever seen The Scholar. They said he was a Time Lord that had lived beyond his regenerations and had been resurrected by a lonely god in need of a companion. Again, probably rubbish. 

“You sent for me,” the Doctor declared in lieu of a formal greeting. “I’ve been trying to find you, but you were the one to find me instead. So, Romana thinks you have the magic answer to end the Time War.” He spread his arms wide. “Well, we’re in need of a miracle, and I think this is a joke. So, unless you really have a solution to this mess, I don’t have the time to listen to a medicine man selling snake oil.”

A gloved hand extended from the curtains. He couldn’t tell if it belonged to a man or a woman. But dangling from it was a chain, and from that chain there was a gem. It was large and pure. A diamond, he realized, probably the most pure diamond that had ever been seen in the universe. 

“Do you know what this is, Doctor?” The Scholar’s voice was rough, husky and very male, and he could hear the age in it. 

“According to Romana, this is The Moment.”

“Do you know what it does?”

“It’s supposed to end the Time War.”

“It will,” the Scholar agreed. “It will end the Time War. But, there is a cost. No being, man or Time Lord, is meant to wield this object. It was never cast into a black hole, because in order to do so, it would cause the end of the universe. And there would be no coming back from it. It would be sealed away, every being frozen within it until they passed on. There would be no renewal, no second Big Bang because of the power of The Moment.”

“A Time Lock.” Equal parts giddiness and dread tangled in the Doctor’s stomach as the gem lazily turned before him. It was real. This was real. He could end the war with this. “It places a Time Lock on everything.”

“That is correct.”

“You don’t understand,” the Doctor said. “I have to do this. If I don’t use this, there won’t be much of a universe left to begin with! Everyone would die because of the Daleks and their alliances. They’re going after the lesser species now, and they’re dangerously close to eradicating the Earth. Centuries upon centuries of knowledge, art, science all wiped out because we didn’t do enough. I didn’t do enough. Because it’s not just the Daleks, it’s my people too. The Time Lords are going to destroy the universe because of their own ego, and I can’t let that happen.”

The Scholar didn’t say anything, and the Doctor wondered if somehow he would take it back. Well, forget that. He’d take it by force if he had to. There were bigger things, far bigger things, at stake than an old man’s whim. He started toward the platform.

“Hold out your hand,” the Scholar instructed.

The Doctor froze. He blinked once, then twice, then held his hand under the gem.

“There is a price,” the Scholar repeated. “You will be the one paying the highest price of them. Are you prepared to accept the consequences?”

“I have no choice, do I? My life compared to billions across every galaxy in every universe in existence, to creation itself?” The Doctor searched for any glimpse of the Scholar’s face through the curtains. “What would you do?”

The Scholar let The Moment drop into the Doctor’s hands.

“Take this and combine it with a De-mat gun,” he instructed. “You will use it to end the Time War. Billions will die in this act. Species will lose their physical forms, and entire races will be extinct. The universe will buckle as planets, galaxies, and entire solar systems become nothing more than the dust that surrounds you and me. I ask you one more time, Doctor, are you prepared to deal with the consequences?”

“Are you prepared to deal with the consequences if I don’t do it?” The Doctor replied.

“So be it.” The Scholar withdrew his hand. “We will all come together in the same place at the end of time. If I don’t see you again here, I will see you in a little while, in the place where no shadows fall.”

The Doctor furrowed his brow, wondering why the Scholar was suddenly quoting from _Babylon 5_. He nodded to the Scholar and strode out of the room.

“Leave me,” the Scholar instructed to the Ood. “Close and latch the door behind you, and let no one enter.” The Ood did so, gliding out of the room silently. 

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then the door opened, and the Doctor stepped back in.

The Scholar watched him approach through the curtains, hands tightly gripping the rails of the chair. This Doctor was different. Older now, wearing a tweed jacket and bow tie. His hair had grown long again and flopped over one eye. “Why are you here?”

“I was watching the entire time.” The Doctor parted the curtains to reveal a figure covered from head to foot in robes and heavy veils. “You’ve done it.”

“Yes. It is done." The Scholar drew himself up, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the arms of the chair. "You knew this would happen, didn't you?”

“Yes.” Ever since the moment that the discovery on an ancient desert on a planet that that was about to be drawn into a black hole had been announced, when the lead archaeologist on the expedition had shown the artifact to him and innocently inquired about its origins, he knew what would happen. “I’m sorry. And it had to be you. For that, I’m even sorrier.”

The Scholar started to unwind the veils that shielded him from the Doctor. One by one, the layers fell away. He peeled off the gloves and removed the voice-altering box strapped to his throat. The last thing to emerge was the brilliant mass of golden curls that bounced forth from where they had been hidden beneath the heavy veils.

“I hate you,” River Song said.

The Doctor smiled sadly at her and knew that this time, she meant it.


End file.
